


Knitwit

by Hiver_Frost_Elf



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Barry Whump, Crossover, Dimension Travel, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Knitter!Barry, Monopoly (Board Game), Multi, Older Man/Younger Man, Plushies, Pokemon - Freeform, Protective Leonard Snart, Protective Mick Rory, Sleeptalking, Sleepwalking, canon compliant until it isn't, technically it's older men/younger man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-14
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-08-22 04:14:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8272387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hiver_Frost_Elf/pseuds/Hiver_Frost_Elf
Summary: My name is Barry Allen and I am the fastest man alive... cuz the faster men are dead....  When I was a child, I saw my mother killed by something impossible; my father went to prison for her murder—then an accident made me the impossible!  To the outside world, I'm an ordinary forensic scientist, but secretly, I use my speed to fight crime and knit.....No, seriously! Sweaters, hats, scarves—I can't do gloves or mittens yet, but I'm working on it.Or at least I would be working on it if I hadn't gotten a call about a hostage situation currently in progress downtown.  I gotta take this; apparently, Golden Glider is asking for me specifically.  Be back in a flash!





	1. Lisa Ruins a Sweater

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Close Knit](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8182838) by [everyperfectsummer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/everyperfectsummer/pseuds/everyperfectsummer). 
  * Inspired by [Only Tease If You Promise To Deliver](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6254005) by [Crimson1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crimson1/pseuds/Crimson1). 



> Unbetaed, barely edited, everyone sucks at summaries.
> 
> Summary inspired by the show's opening monologue, pretty much everything else inspired by comments on Close Knit or Close Knit itself except for a line modified from the show: a play on "does your mom know you're out past your bedtime".
> 
> I want to thank formerlyknownasyay for giving me the a-okay to write and post this. Her fic is adorable and fluffy and sunshine and rainbows and a quick read, so there's no excuse not to check it out if you haven't read it yet. Give her all the kudos and kind comments you can spam. Knitwit would not exist without Close Knit.
> 
> I still have no clue what I'm doing, so let me know if I forgot to tag something or tagged something wrong or shouldn't have tagged something. The rating might be teen or mature. I kinda I went overboard in my attempt to not be terrible at writing coldflashwave.

Flash arrives on the scene, ready for Golden Glider’s ultimatum.  He stills.  Inertia feels eerie and itchy for someone who’s always on the move.  She doesn’t budge her gold gun from the neck of her whimpering hostage.  Her minty eyes and his hazel eyes lock together, “Come with me, Flash.”

Lisa directs Flash to an unmarked motorcycle, ditches the civilian, and cuffs Flash around her waist once they sit down and don helmets.  These are Hartley Rathaway Anti-Phasing Restraints (patent pending), but even if they weren’t, Flash knows this whole hostage exchange is mostly ceremonial.

“Can’t you just text me like a normal friend?” Barry wonders out loud as he spits her wind-blustered curls out of his face.

Lisa snickers, “We’re not friends, we’re frenemies.”

The drive to one of the Rogues’ safehouses lasts until clouds clear.  This base is imperially huge and residentially furnished, so it’s likely all or at least most of the Rogues are currently present.  This is confirmed when Mark sleepily swaggers around the living room howling, “My client is innocent because she’s allergic to three-syllable words!  How can she ship Spiderpool if she can’t even say the ship name!?”

“Go back to bed, Mark,” says Lisa.

“Marco Mardon!!!” his somnambulistic, somniloquistic persona corrects. “I got 99 problems, but acquittals ain’t one!”

“How about a short recess?” Barry suggests, clapping his now uncuffed hands together to imitate a gavel, and guides Mark to his bedroom.  He zips back to Lisa, who’s digging through her purse, “Okay, so I’m assuming lawyer troubles isn’t why you called me here, so why did y—”  His squeak cuts off his own question.  Lisa’s fingers unveil a jaundiced cobweb: ashes of a once glittering masterpiece Barry labored a month on—or at least the equivalent of a month in speedster time—carelessly tossed in with her regular laundry.  Speedster healing doesn’t work on emotional trauma, so it takes Barry a minute to recuperate, “....Let me go grab my kit real quick.”

“No need,” Lisa waves him off, flicks her head towards the couch, and exits.

One of Barry’s knees jitters while he waits.  He folds his hands in his lap, then slings one over an armrest, shifts so he’s upside down, checks his watch, plays Angry Birds on an imaginary phone: anything to keep his impatience from detonating.

“The problem with youngsters these days is that they’re always zipping around; I thought it was just city folks, but nope, it’s everybody Shawna’s age and younger,” a southern-fried chuckle rolls steadily closer.  Barry jolts up to his feet when two sharks cross the threshold.  Mick Rory pokes Barry’s chest, “Well, lookie here, Lenny, this is exactly what I’m talkin’ about.  I’ll bet this babe’s never waited a beat in his life.”

“Nobody appreciates proper timing anymore,” Len swims behind Barry with his hands behind his back and purrs into Barry’s ear loud enough for Mick to hear yet soft enough to sting, “especially nobody who just upgraded from a cradle.”

“Y-yeah, well…” Barry stammers and flushes in his struggle to respond intelligently, “o-older gentlemen… have arthritis—and never do anything!”

Barry would fight Zoom and Reverse Flash at the same if it gave him a chance to replace that line with any other sentence in the history of speech.  Too bad his super reflexes don’t keep him from tripping verbally.  His blush blooms from head to toe.

“Ha!” Mick claws into Barry’s scalp. “Do we look like gentlemen to you, baby doll?”

Len slinks over to Barry’s other ear while remaining beyond the latter’s sight.  His breath frosts each millimeter of skin it grazes.  Barry twitches.  Somebody needs to act now before Barry explodes! “The better question is: do your daddies know you’re up past your bedtime in this part of Central?”

This is a secluded alcove of the city: no other buildings around for miles.  Nevertheless, Barry plays along with a nervous chuckle, “The best question is: are my daddies gonna punish me when they find out?”

* * *

Barry’s fathers team up against Iris and Wally to dash their dreams of becoming real estate moguls.  The younger duo groan as hotel fees vacuum their cash after half an hour of rather blatant insider trading between Henry and Joe.  At least when Barry attends, he can swipe a couple fifties, but with him away on Flash duties, the kids were doomed!  The parents dominate the blue streets by the time the front door rattles and clicks.

“Good lord, not another one!” Joe rolls his eyes and facepalms.  Len was bad enough, now Lisa too!?  It shouldn’t be this easy to break into a cop’s home, dammit!

Henry blinks with a half-opened jaw.  Wally voices their thoughts, “What the fuck???”

Golden Glider’s demand is as authoritative and serious as anything that ever came out of Captain Cold’s mouth, “Where’s Barry’s knitting kit?”

Stunned, the men don’t say a word.  Unfazed—this is as normal as life gets in Cental—Iris answers, “Upstairs, first door on the left, by his desk.”

Golden Glider nods her thanks, collects a lunchbox with a fiery snowflake stamped on the front and a thunderbolt emblazoned on the back, and swiftly departs.  Henry is confused as hell, so Iris chides him, “See, this is why you shouldn’t have left for National Nature Channel Park or wherever, because while you were out finding yourself, Barry was out finding new hobbies.”

Henry deserved that.  He clicked his tongue, “....So now he knits for Lisa Snart?"

“Don’t be ridiculous, Barry knits for all the Rogues,” Iris scoffs. “And Team Arrow. And Team Flash.”

“Seriously, STAR Labs looks like it’s been attacked by a metahuman grandma," adds Wally. "Anybody who tries to break into the place will trip over all the yarn!”

* * *

Lisa violates just about every traffic law on and off the books, yet she still doesn’t return to the safehouse fast enough, in her humble opinion—which is correct, so don’t argue!  Midnight tiptoes over a mansion under a moonless sky.  Glacial breath fogs her cobblestone warpath to the porch.  Her fury snaps one, then two, then three lockpicks before the door surrenders.

She’s not surprised that her alleged hostage moved during her absence.  Luckily, for as large as this joint is, there’s only one room that would distract him this late at night.  She pads down a hall, having long since memorized which steps would help or hurt stealth.

She piston-pounds the last door on the right, “Bartholomew Henry Allen! Stop having sex for ten seconds and knit me a new sweater, dammit!!!”

Barry phases through the door.  He obviously speed-dressed if his frazzled hair, tomato tan, and musk mean anything.  He grabs his kit and flees into the living room before Len bellows, “Lisa, you fuckin’ cockblock!”

“Lenny, you fuckin’ cockslut!”

Mick grumbles, “I’m here too, ya know.”

“I’m not the one you need to remind,” Lisa quips before she leaves.  A mattress creaks when flesh slams against flesh.  Good. That should keep those two occupied until Barry crafts a replacement.  In fact, he’s done by the time she checks on his progress. Wonderful!  She’d kiss him, but she releases him to receive kisses from _sometwo_ else instead.

The End!!!


	2. Mick Ruins a Sweater

Mick rifles through his laundry increasingly frenzied until he finds the remains of his quest.His frown reaches down to his chin.He pouts and holds up a rosy tumbleweed when Len quirks an eyebrow.Len smirks from behind his book, “I don’t see why you’re complaining, Sparky, you’ve always been smaller than me.”

* * *

Flash wonders why and how Captain Cold got a black eye that’s extensive enough to spread out from underneath his goggles moments before the wolfish man nicks his heel with his cold gun.Flash yelps before he crashed into the base of a fountain in the middle of Central City Park.His vision blurs while the cold gun pulses instead of blasting its usual beams.He hears Captain Cold sauntering towards him until frost avalanches him into unconsciousness.

Flash wakes up stripped of everything except his extra snug boxers: 50% snowflakes, 50% flames, 100% Iris’s doing.Still disoriented, he assumes he’s hallucinating when he sees his knitting kit in front of him.The table in front of him is the perfect height for him to knit, and he’s cuffed to it in such a way that he could knit speedster-style or just outright escape if he so desires.He suspects he won’t want to escape, though… at least not right this second.

A grizzly, ungloved hand tosses another ruined sweater at his face: that makes two in as many weeks!His pupils conquer his sclera as he wails at the horror.He looks up at Mick and wails at him.He looks down at the corpse of thread, back up at Mick, and wails again.

He becomes a twitchy, unintelligible catastrophe when he learns one of his own boyfriends committed this atrocity, “No sex for you! Ever!”

“C’mon, baby doll, you know it was an accident.”

“Traitor!” Barry hisses, chomping Mick’s hand when the older man reaches to rub the tears from Barry's cheeks.

Mick shakes off the pain and asks with an incorrigible grin, “....Will you still knit me a new sweater?”

Barry pitches one at Mick’s face and then speeds off to seek comfort from Len: his well-behaved boyfriend.

The End!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The cold gun's sleepy-snowy setting comes from Crimson1's Only Tease If You Promise To Deliver. Go check it out and give it some kudos and comments; it ships ColdFlash in a rather amusing manner. I'm sure somewhere in the ballpark of 99% of y'all have at least heard of Crimson1 on the off-chance you haven't read that particular fic yet.


	3. Solnishko Ruins a Sweater

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Introducing the Knitwit/STAR Blazers crossover nobody asked for :D :) :D
> 
> Inspirations include Pokémon and Henry's "I'm proud of the man [Barry] became" speech.

Cisco’s fireproof chemical wash worked like a charm, yet it brought the unfortunate side effect of Flash zipping up to a burning building before he remembered to tuck his knitting somewhere safe.  He zoomed in and out of the building until every last civilian was safe.  One of them pecked him on the cheek—a cutie too, on live TV nonetheless.  He was so in for it if Len and Mick were watching, which he knew better by now than to hope otherwise.

He investigated the alley in which his knitting should theoretically be and sighed his relief once he found it.  This wasn’t the first time he’d run into danger with his fingers tangled in polychromatic thread.  His pieces tended to disappear on such occasions.

The next day, Barry’s lab work got interrupted by dressed-in-his-best Eddie with an offering of thread overflowing out of a box, “Delivery for the Scarlet Speedster!”

“Eddie!” Barry hissed.

“You’re on your way to STAR Labs after work, right?” Eddie winked.  God! His brother-in-law was cheesy enough to flavor macaroni! “Just drop it off for him there.  Some old people donated it to him after watching the news yesterday: ten minutes of Flash rescuing folks from crispy death, half a minute of Flash looking for his knitting.”

“Aw geez!” Barry slammed his head against his desk.  He wasn’t embarrassed to be the only one his gender and remotely near his age knitting, he was mortified!

Barry lugged his laundry basket of knitting supplies home on the bus.  He couldn’t Flash home because it burst into flames, and contrary to Mick’s belief, bursting into flames is not fun.  Paranoia multiplied each pair of eyes which grazed him into a cannonade of lasers eviscerating his soul.  And of course, the elevator at his apartment complex was passing a kidney stone, so he had to march up five flights of stairs, unable to avert aghast gazes.

He fumbled for his keys, wondering each second if he forgot them at work until he discovered he’d stashed them in the wrong pocket.  If all else failed, he could’ve set the basket down and phased through the door, but he was too distressed to think of that solution.  He smacked himself when he did.

Parcels of thread splattered into his landfill of a closet.  He tossed escapees back into this abyss and then flopped face-first onto his bed.  His comforter provided no comfort to the revelation that everybody in Central knew Flash knitted.  He was ruined!!!

“We got Steel-type trouble at the docks,” Cisco chimed over his phone.  Barry groaned, donned his suit, and sloshed into battle. “Bareep, I choose you!”

Girder uses Iron Defense.  Girder’s defense rose drastically!

Flash uses Extreme Speed.  It’s not very effective.

Girder uses Heavy Slam, a critical hit!

* * *

Mick and Len were going to murder their boyfriend.  He had super speed; there was no excuse for him being unable to dodge a civilian’s advances.  They booked it from that Gotham wannabe Arrow guarded as soon as their latest heist succeeded without a hitch.

Len’s SuperStalker app tracked Barry’s traitorous ass to the docks.  Uppity waves and salty breezes did not calm their irritation.

“Teddy Barry knits now?” Barry tensed at the name and the scathing leer mocking him.  Len and Mick’s fury exploded when a metallic fist crashed into Barry’s ribs.

Mick uses Flamethrower, it's super effective!

Len uses Ice Beam, a critical hit!

Mick uses Roar.  Girder flees!

Len and Mick reset Barry’s bones—dying inside at each whimper, wince, and cry.  They couldn’t even transport him to STAR Labs: that’s how horribly Girder thrashed him.  Caitlin, Henry, and Shawna tag-teamed at the nearest safehouse to repair him.  They banished everyone to the living room.  Cisco and Mark and Eddie paced, Iris jittered her leg, Lisa and Wally gnawed their nails, Mick and Len and Joe crushed armrests, and Hartley tiptoed through a sonata on his flute.  No sooner had medical support reported he’d be fine than Mick and Len rushed to his side.

Cuddling, puppy-guarding, and a mandatory week off from absolutely everything ensued.  Captain Singh threatened to shoot Barry on sight if he showed up at CCPD.  Barry waited out his paralysis by gaming and watching flicks.  Mark and Wally owned everybody at Mario Kart, Shawna awed folks with her hideously overpowered Dovahkiin, and Cisco kicked alien ass in Insaniquarium.  Caitlin introduced him to _Casablanca_ , Hartley and Eddie and Lisa held a conference on how Éponine wastes screen time on a love triangle nobody cares about in _Les Mis_ , and Joe and Henry showed him retro _A-Team_.  Mick and Len brought offerings of comfort food and desserts.  The safehouse perpetually smelled like a bakery and extra saucy lasagna.

Barry would’ve forgotten his troubles if Iris hadn’t brought his knitting kit.  Barry stared at it before flinging it off the side of his bed and running fast enough to enter another universe.  He stopped at this one’s version of his childhood home: a two-car garage, two-story house with as many windows which fit.  He sighed, breathing in freshly-cut grass and air cooked by summer.

“What’s wrong, Barry?” a voice caressed his ears.  He hadn’t heard this voice since the Speed Force borrowed it.

Barry turned around and gaped before he worked up his courage, “Mom? You’re alive???”

“And well,” Nora smiled and flared her arms out for a hug.  Barry rushed into it and sobbed.

Nora knew this wasn’t hers by his scarlet suit, yellow lightning, and minutely aged features; yet she didn’t care whose child any child was when a child was hurting if nobody stepped up to offer comfort.  Nora invited Barry inside and listened to his troubles.  At the end of his tale, she asked him what his favorite animal was.

“Okay, I know it’s dumb to say a Pokémon when people mean a real animal, but to be honest, it’s Mareep.” Barry admitted sheepishly. “And Teddiursa!”

“It’s never dumb to be honest, Barry,” Nora patted his shoulder before placed an order over the phone.  Within minutes, Blitz Delivery Service brought over a Mareep plushie and a Teddiursa plushie.  Barry tensed because this speedster’s suit and lightning reminded him too much of Zoom.

The newcomer unmasked himself and gaped incredulously, “Flash!? How are you here???”

“I, um, ran really fast,” Barry mirrored his expression. “Thanks for the plushies.”

“You’re welcome!” Solnishko chirped.

“Sternchen, will you tell Barry a little bit about yourself, bitte?” Nora requested.

“Okay, Mutti!” Solnishko agreed with a smile as sunny as his namesake. “I collect shoelaces, I like hugs and plushies and windows, raccoons are my favorite animals, and my favorite movie is _Lilo & Stitch_.”

Barry flattened his smile and blinked.  Solnishko stared at him like goats stare at UFOs.

“Barry came here because he feels weird,” Nora explained.

Solnishko hummed empathetically, “Whenever I feel weird, my oldest older brother sings me a song.”

_You are my sunshine, my favorite sunshine._

_When you’re around, Cub, no skies are gray._

_If someone asks you how I can love you,_

_run to me, I’ll hug you all day._

Solnishko’s singing voice sounded like a high-pitched resident of Animal Crossing: sweet enough to induce diabetes with one note.  Most folks believed it fit him, and now so did his mid-twenties counterpart.

“Knitting doesn’t hurt you or anybody else, Barry, and neither do Solnishko’s interests,” Nora said at last. “I may not be your mother, but I’m willing to bet your mother loved you unconditionally and that the rest of your family feels the same way and is worried sick about you.”

Guilt uses Tackle, a critical hit!

Nora hummed knowingly.  Solnishko’s eyes bulged, “You didn’t tell them where you are!?  You need to leave right now or your Cait’ll flip out!!!  We were decoration-shopping for me and Jesse’s party, and I saw a sparkly notebook.  Next thing I know, I get called down to the front desk and found her shaky and panicky, and she hugged me forever—granted, I have gone missing before, but after that, she watched the door until I left the bathroom.  Her eye still hasn’t stopped twitching, and—”

_Killer Frost: Wie geht’s, Brüderchen?_

_Blitz: I’M AS FINE AS I WAS THE LAST 5 KAJILLION TIMES YOU ASKED ME_

“Mutti, I’m begging you, please please please talk to her!  She’s driving me crazy!!!” Solnishko implored Nora on his knees. “She called Mick and Batman to hunt me down cuz taking a shower kept me from answering one text on time, and now neither of them will leave me alone either!”

_Sparky: You alright, Cub?_

_Bats: My batlaptop places you at your mother and Doctor Allen’s residence.  Is this information accurate?_

Solnishko shoved his phone in her face as if she didn’t believe him.  Solnishko didn’t think it could get any worse until Harry and Hartley texted him.

_Go Away: SOLNISHKO ARE YOU OKAY!?!_

_Jump Cannon: Hi, Lilo :) where the hell are you???_

Solnishko had enough time to facepalm at these texts before three more infested his phone.

_Kala: LITTLE BUDDY ANSWER ME SO I KNOW YOU HAVEN’T BEEN MURDERED_

_Tarzan: U ok little buddy???  Do u need Clyde & me 2 murder anybody???_

_Wheeling Dead: Just checking in, Sternchen._

“Et tu, Vati!?!” Solnishko snarled at his phone before sending a mass text.

_Blitz: @ Muttis Haus CALM DOWN ALREADY!!!_

His eyelid twitched at Nora, who patted his head.  Nora answered a call, “Yes, Cait, he’s right here....” Nora sighed, “I can literally see him, Schneeflocke, he’s fine.  Would you like to lecture him about how he will always be four years old and should never have any independence?”

Nora handed her phone over to Barry.  Solnishko had learned his lesson by now, and so did Barry by the time Caitlin was through, “Brüderchen, you told everybody you’d be with Hermano today; what happened!?”

“I, uh, needed to talk to Mom,” Barry winced apologetically.  Solnishko’s eye’s bulged at Barry’s three-letter mistake.

“....Sie sind nicht meinen Brüderchen!!!  Every last member of my ‘ohana will kick your ass if you don’t put him on the phone right now, imposter!!!”

Barry mouthed _I’m so sorry_ before handing the device over to Solnishko.  It took the latter ten minutes to assuage his oldest sister.  Solnishko bleated his exhaustion when Caitlin finally allowed the call to end.

“Thank you so much—both of you,” Barry saluted them. “Good luck with your ‘ohana, Solnishko, mine’s probably gonna be a billion times worse.”

“Ha!” Solnishko barked doubtfully.

Barry was halfway out the door when it dawned on him, “How am I gonna bring my plushies home without incinerating them???”

“I’ll run with you.”

“I’ll hold the inquisition at bay,” Nora pocketed Solnishko’s phone.

“Oh god, danke, Mutti!” Solnishko pecked her forehead before donning his cowl and toting Barry’s Pokémon out the door.

Both plushies were perfectly intact when the boys arrived.  Barry let Solnishko borrow some of his clothes—a perfect fit, what a shock—so his ‘ohana wouldn’t attack him on sight.

Oliver appeared from the shadows, threw off his hood, and vibrated furiously with his arms folded, “Stop running away all the time!”

“Ollie, what are you doing here???” Barry inquired.  Solnishko’s gaze floated between the two as if it was a ping-pong game.

“Well, I just finished sending Woodward on a month-long vacation in the ICU when Team Flash called me about an MIA speedster,” Oliver glared Barry into submission before snapping his raptorial gaze at Solnishko. “Who the hell is this???”

“He’s me from another universe,” Barry inched between them.

“Servus, vie geht’s?” Solnishko chirped.

Oliver didn’t have time to deal with this shit, so instead, he ordered via voice modulator, “ **Stay.** ”

Oliver uses Mean Look.

* * *

Barry used his new knitting supplies to knit Solnishko a sweater.  It featured blue thunderbolts against a red background and thumb holes in its sleeves.  Solnishko cheered gratefully.  He was amidst swishing his arms when Mick and Len kicked the door down.

“What the hell, Barry!?!” Mick bellowed.  Solnishko zipped under Barry’s bed.

Barry summarized his journey.  Len and Mick forgave him this time with the stipulation that he never ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever do it again.  Mick hauled him into a kiss.

Solnishko phased into the bathroom and lost everything he’d eaten today.  He was paler than alabaster by the time he finished.  Len read to him, Barry washed his sweater, and Mick fixed him lunch in bed as an apology.

“I’m sorry for being a wimp,” Solnishko coughed weakly.

“You have nothing to apologize for, Zvezdochko,” Len assured him. “You were innocently visiting another universe when your brother’s counterpart traumatized you for life.”

“Heh,” Solnishko grinned woozily. “That’s what my Lenny calls me, too.”

“Eh, what can I say?” Len ruffled Solnishko’s hair. “You look like a Zvezdochko.”

Henry came over in an hour to clear Solnishko for interdimensional travel.  Solnishko poked Henry to ensure he wasn’t hallucinating.

“What has he been doing all this time that’s more important than reuniting with his long-lost child?” Henry wanted to punch his counterpart.

Solnishko looked forlornly at the floor and sighed, “Healing people… and now he’s in a coma.” Solnishko met Henry’s gaze with tears. “Would he like Barry better?”

Henry frowned and placed a grounding hand on Solnishko’s shoulder, “....I am proud of the man my son became, and I’d be proud if he became Solnishko Rory Morgan-Wells; if your father isn’t, he’s not my counterpart anyway."

Barry gave him another sweater: pure garnet.  Solnishko agreed to deliver it to Nora.  He nodded farewell to everyone and returned to his universe.  As he expected, an army had arrived at Nora and Henry’s house.  Harry was toting his When All Hell Breaks Loose Rifle, Hartley’s sonic gloves were charged to full power, Mark and Clyde had summoned tornados in their palms, Batman was ready to unleash a swarm of batarangs, Caitlin was chilling her immediate surroundings, Mick had crafted flames between his fingers, and Harrison was crushing his armrests.

The End!!!


	4. Hermey Saves Some Sweaters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the Fauna Saga/Knitwit crossover EVEN LESS PEOPLE asked for than the last crossover, with cameos from Time and Time Again and STAR Blazers in the end notes.

A kid with cat ears and an emerald armband accompanied by her floppy-eared dog waltzed in on a late-night museum robbery.  The Rogues were clad in knitted apparel.  Flash called a timeout on these shenanigans at once, “Noooooo!!! I can't fight you in those!!  The stitches'll come undone!”

The Rogues heartlessly resumed pillaging the museum.  Flash was torn between his love of knitting and his duties as a crime fighter.  Fauna took this as her cue to transform the Rogues into puppies.  Flash tried his best to stifle his awwwwwws and snickers, but such a feat was impossible when facing off against the likes of Collie Cold, Inuwave, Goldendoodle, Pied Poodle, Peek-a-Pug, and Weather Whippet.

“Round ‘em up, Superdog!” Fauna pointed at the crew.  Superdog barked at the ne’er-do-wells.  Mick, Mark, and Lisa tried taking him; but this German Shepherd/Alaskan Malamute mix was larger and used to life as a canine.  In the meantime, the heroes greeted each other.

“Hey, Hermey, what’s up?” waved Flash.

“Music Meister, Solnishko, and I were gonna go to STAR Earth; but Music Meister had to deal with something that came up in another universe, so Solnishko elected to hang out on AO3 Earth while I decided to come here.”

“I’m super glad you did,” Flash continued while Superdog herded the Rogues into a kennel his owner brought just in case this sort of situation came up.  Flash spoke up so the Rogues would hear him, “My mean boyfriends and their meaner friends never appreciate my hard work!”

“At least they don’t spit in your coffee,” Fauna fumed about Harry’s treatment of HR while she was off with the Legends.  Fauna saved them a trip by ferrying them back to the Rogues’ mansion in a jumpship.  Barry released the Rogues in the living room, but Barry paused Hermey from changing them back until he had an ample amount of blackmail/scrapbooking material which he sent to Team Flash and Team Arrow in case one or more of the Rogues retaliated.

The Rogues—except Lisa—grumbled at the heroes.  Lisa said with her hand on her hip, “I don’t know why the rest of you are upset, we were a-freakin’-dorable!”

The Rogues eyed her vengefully as if she was a traitor.  She grinned before foraging for snacks in the kitchen.  Hartley grumbled as he retreated downstairs into his lab, Shawna shrugged as she departed to slay some Draugr Deathlords, and Mark challenged Hermey to a Mario Kart tournament which Lisa invited herself to.  Len shooed Dusto—Superdog’s civilian identity—off the couch.  Dusto’s indignant bark _ruffly_ translated to “You’re not my real uncle!”  Len glared this unruly mutt into submission.  Hermey and Dusto left with matching emerald sweaters after Mark won the tourney.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile, [another universe’s](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9476741/chapters/21441095) version of Barry tightened his tie for date night and begrudgingly answered the door, slamming it shut as soon as he heard, “Servus! Vie geht’s?”
> 
> Reverse emerged from the bathroom smelling of gentlemanly cologne and bolted to action when he heard someone whimpering outside.  He brought a tear-stained Solnishko inside where Zoom doted on him with milk and cookies while Reverse zipped up to his youngest lover, “Bartholomew Henry Allen, go to your room, you’re grounded!”
> 
> “But it’s date night!” Barry put his foot down.  That raccoon beanie enthusiast had ruined enough of his life, but intruding upon date night was the final straw!
> 
> “You should’ve thought of that before you treated our visitor so rudely,” Reverse was steadfast and ruthless.  Barry merely folded his arms in consternation, so Reverse added, “ **Don’t make order you twice.** ”
> 
> Barry sulked in bed while his boyfriends pampered that homewrecker.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for taking time out of your busy (or not so busy) schedules to read this, folks. It was so much fun to write :) Have a great morning/day/afternoon/evening/night. Whether you're on AO3 to write, read, both, or something else, I hope you enjoy what you do here and everywhere. This is HFE signing off, see ya!


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